Grand trines and grand crosses

 If I could go the rest of my life without ever hearing those phrases.. 

Your life will have grand trines.. but there will be grand crosses as balance. You will make choices. Some things you can control, many you can't. 

If those aren't the words of an astrologer, I don't know what is. 

Do what's right for you- and things will work out as they're supposed to.

But how do you know what's right? 

I tried to save my marriage, and it's just failing all over again, further from home, in the exact same ways. I moved to KY for better opportunities and it has been a disaster. 

Am I the problem? It's not you, it's me. I am the reason I can't have nice things. 

Chill chill chill... RAGE!!!

 I see the date on this post, that it's not published, and click on it. Nothing. Nada. No words, punctuation, nothing. Huh. 

So, I back out, and click back into it, thinking maybe the page just didn't load. But... nope. There really was nothing there. Under such an -interesting- heading, no less. Hm.  I've had lesser mysteries garner more attention, but there you have it. I'm intrigued. 

Per typical fashion, I squirrel out and go do something else, but lo and behold, there it is! In the back of my brain, slowly grinding away, until I have the answer and address the problem. It must be done. Mysteries must be solved! 

It's not much of a mystery, sadly. I feel like that heading could be the theme song of my life lately. Like the military's "Hurry up to wait," mine is.. this. 

What would I do without Logan? I could never afford this place.. nor would I be able to keep it up on my own. And I think back to how we got here. And I realize that although I could not have done this particular journey without him, I would have been fine... and I would have kept pushing. Because that is what I do. I push and keep pushing and jsut keep on it, until I get what I want. Then... I regret it, or keep pushing.

Holy hell, I was so proud of the CI house; I spoke so lovingly of it, and it's shitty floors and moldy basement and disgusting beginnings and terrible yard. Of it's ghetto vicinity and... all the terrible things that house saw Chris and I do to each other. No worries, house, I still remember the Queen of Thorns, and Willow, and Loki and Thomas, of 4th of July and Christmas parties, of new closets and trim I was so excited about. Of paint that people poo-poo'd and I thought made you so eclectic and lovely. Rainy days lying under the skylight just watching the rain come down. I remember couches scouted and giant clocks bought, of walls taken down (literally) and put back up (figuratively).. I remember love. And hate.  But never for you, house. 

The first house I ever aspired to own is very well known.. too well known, in fact. I went to daycare in a house across town, owned by an older woman and her husband. I knew their two grown kids, had tried to talk their son into letting me wear his monster slippers when he came home from college. I had slept in Annmarie's room when I was a terrible child who peeled the brand new wallpaper in the nap room. I was apparently part of the reason the house became so well known- the stories of the girl in the closet who "broke me out of naptime".. who my Mom had always thought was an imaginary friend. I still dream of the well under the house, of the secret hidey holes and places very few people every knew of... right up until it became The Conjuring house. I mourn the day that movie was made, because -my- house was forever gone to me. I had told my mom I would own that house since I was 12, probably since the day I realized you couldn't just visit houses you didn't own. I am so sorry, house.. I stopped and saw you the other day, and I miss you still.

But Woodstock? Oh, how I wanted to hate you.. You swampy, bamboo-y, drafty awful old house that kept me awake with cold and ghosts and nightmares of how you would fall down on me in my sleep. But from the day I agreed we should buy you, you just... held me. I spent hours, days, months, picking out the PERFECT piece to put in places. Did I fuck up with that little lamp in the front room? Absolutely. Did I slam it out of the park with the wallpaper? No doubt. Did I marvel over the insanity of your beams? Did I brag about your historic bones? Did I reminisce the taste you'd once enjoyed and promise to help you regain it? To all of them, yes. Do I miss you with every breath in my lungs? Every single one. 

Houses are such funny places. "Home is where you make it," "...where family is," blah blah blah. I mean, I agree. But the physical manifestation of a home is a house. And some houses are just... more, than others. My house just came up for sale. Both of them. And I let them both just.. go. And I'm broken about it. 

What does this have to do with Chillin and Ragin? Not a clue. I got off topic. Maybe next time. 

Ponies Galore.. Eh?

 Someone blew it. For sure. And I'm reasonably positive it wasn't me. Here's what happened:

Kimber effed up. Big time. You know, that adorable little hellion I dragged home from KY while we were on "vacation" in WV? Who I tried to dump over a cliff on the ride home along with my me, hubby, doggos, and the other weanling in the trailer? Who I've spent so much money on and time dreaming of, and all the other things? Yep. Came down to the line where all that should have paid off, and... he effed it up. 

In his defense, he's not the first horse of mine to ruin a sale by doing something completely whacked out in the final moments of decision making. 

So what did he do? He tripped. He tripped in such a way that he completely fell down, threw me off, then almost rolled over on top of me. With an OLYMPIAN watching. I guess I should look at the silver lining- how many people can lay that claim to fame? Logan had a certain amount of point with that observation... 

With that also said, there is a video. I don't have it, but there is video evidence of me hitting the dirt. In fact, I just emailed Phyllis (Dawson, the Olympian trainer who came out to evaluate Kimby), because if you don't ask, you'll never get anything in life!

But yeah.. Another ridiculous moment in my life. 

On the plus side, the stalls are looking positively awesome in the barn!!

Kentucky and Schizophrenia

 WE moved to KY. It's been terrible. Honestly. There are a lot of good things, but I'd move back to New England in most of a heartbeat, if I could be sure things would go back to the way they were and everything wasn't just a terrible coincidence. Everything has broken. Everything. WE came down with 2 pickups, my BMW, Kaiser, mini truck, and Prius, and... 6 months later, we have a BMW with unfixable AC (super fun on those 90+ degree days), and a dually Ram. The gray truck keeps being released from the shop with its $13k repair tag (Ermahgerd.), but going back the next day bc... it keeps breaking. I am so tired.

We live in a trailer with the three dogs (Loki is still here, along with Tater and Cowboy), and whereas the house was supposed to be DONE in 3-6 months, you can still see studs everywhere and daylight in many places. I am.. so tired.

Oh, and we're broke. Broke broke. Like.. 2 mortgages on this house, cars still broken everywhere and I Can't afford to fix them, broke. Lay down and just... stay asleep... tired. 

Now onto the really fun stuff.

Seth sent me a news article about some guy who was arrested for a bomb threat against Gillette stadium. I took one look at the picture of the guy and recognized Andy Buchanan. Dirty, haggard, but undeniably Andy. The rest of the article goes on to explain how he was dx'd with schizophrenia 12ish years ago and has been off the rails, that Suzie B is sad that he's in trouble but glad because maybe it will help get more awareness and assistance for those in crisis. 

I had a dream- and I'm absolutely sure it relates back to this. 

It was a couple weeks before graduation of college (I'm pretty sure), and I'd come home to help out with something. Seth was there and we were just.. fighting. Viciously. Like we used to. There was a stranger there, a new friend of my Mom's, maybe? Dad hadn't gotten home from work yet. Anyway, Seth and I were putting on a show and it was just too much for Mom. She told me I was the problem and to get out. I argued with her that Seth was starting it, but she didn't want to hear it, and that I should just get out. I'm not sure how it turned into me being cut off, but that was how it ended- I said, "I don't know, I feel like there's something wrong with me. I'm doing things I don't normally do, but I'm not hanging out with people I wouldn't hang out with, yet." I grabbed my old stuffies and was walking out the door when Dad walked in from work. I tried so hard to not let him know what happened, just that I was leaving early. I got into my car, took a left out of Black Hut Rd. house, and there was construction on the corner late at night. I had to slow down for it, but once I Was past it, I just slowly drove off into the dark. 

I was trying to explain to Logan about SB and the Buchanans, and how I hadn't been a friend of Andy's, but how he and SB had been good friends growing up. To be honest, I'd been a little jealous of their relationship when I was younger. Seth and I had always been so adversarial. So to have your best friend change and warp and suddenly be violent, shut off, and apparently aggressive for no discernible reason.. My heart hurts for SB. My heart hurts for her entire family, but is crushed for SB. I'm so sorry, SB, for not being there for you. I'm putting this out in the universe, and I hope you and your mom feel it- support, love, empathy. Susie B, I'm so sorry for your loss. It is a loss, losing one so precious to mental health crisis. It's a death that just keep hitting. I hope you find peace.

Therapy

 Life sucks, then you die. 

Long story short, we're moving to KY, I thought about divorcing Logan, and now we're in marriage counseling. 

Today was life story day. And people ooh and aah about Logan's alcoholic mother and mildly abusive dad, riiiiiight up until they hear my life story. Then their jaw drops and they don't have great words. Honestly, it's not that bad- I was never hit or thrown down stairs, but you'd think it was that bad from all the therapists. "It was a matter of survival," is a common theme. I survive. I have adapted mechanisms to survive. And I just keep doing it. It's all about the boundaries, baby. 

The New Year

 It's been a while. So long, in fact, that when I re-read my last post, which is something I like to do before I write a new one, I find myself crying, AGAIN, just remembering that moment in the car. Ugh. SNiffle, leak, sniffle. What a way to start the morning. 

I've actually been audio blogging of sorts in the car on longer rides (my commute is an hour each way, so.. that counts!), and I'm going to try to figure out a way to either transcribe those or just put them on here. I am sure no one reads this, but it's cathartic to be able to look back and see how things went "back in the day", relive moments you forgot (good or bad), and remember where you came from. 

So, funny story, we have three dogs again. How, you ask? You went from thinking you were nuts to getting ANOTHER dog?? Yeah. well, there's a story- like with everything else in this silly blog. 

Right around mid December, things were starting to be.. less hellish in my head. I was crying less, and although Vera was still not being ridden, I had attempted to take her out for walks. Tater was doing really well, and Loki was perking up. Tater was also starting to beat the ever loving merciless crap out of Loki, so.. that was a problem. We were also back to the issue of... 12 year old dog, and now puppy. So when Loki goes, (I do not even want to think about that. There may be a sabbatical taken.) we're still down to one dog. So, with Logan's mom having 4 puppies and Ellie, we reached out to her and offered to take one more. So, up comes Cowboy on New Years Day via Gary's Transport. LOL 

Cowboy is.. Tater's polar opposite. LoL He is laid-back, a little fearful, the omega in Angie's pack, and was completely ignorant when he came. He came with counter surfing, resource guarding, and a short fuse for "rough play", as he's also about 3" shorter than Tater, who was the runt of the litter. He was... kind of a mess. But as of now, he is settling in nicely and turning into a loverly little mutt. We work on manners and obedience daily, take walks, and separate the two for individual "tuning", and.. he's starting to really blossom into a nice pup. Tater, on the other hand... is still very much Tater. At least Loki is not getting beat up as much. Now it's puppy on puppy chaos. hahah

Vera is back to work- We started back with lessons in January, because I made a resolution to do so. And so far, it's sticking. I heart my little mare, so you wouldn't think it would be a tough resolution, but I still have all the PTSD and fear sticking around, clogging up the works. It's so insidious- I'm like... what a nice day, I should take Vera for a ride! I get dressed, drag my stuff out, then notice that... XYZ is off. And... get sidetracked. By the time I'm done, it's dark and Vera is like.. Mom, why is all my stuff out and nothing happened?? I get myself so frustrated on those days. But.. I keep taking my lessons so I have one dedicated day to ride, and then usually get in 1-2 more off the high of a successful lesson. And so.. it's going. 

I am also trying to work out a bit- I remember Steph telling me that around 30 she noticed her strength starting to decline and that's when she started working out. It took me to 36, so booyah! But.. the day is here. So, I started working out with a Youtube coach (Caroline Girvan) this week and was surprised when I noticed some muscles being worked that almost never get worked on "typical" Youtube strengthening workouts. So, neato for her!  We'll see how long it sticks. But.. I would really like to keep riding and not turn into a ball of jelly, so I'm going to try. But ohhhhh... Am I sore. LMAO SO SORE!!! I worked out Mon and WEdnesday AM, then rode in my lesson yesterday and it could be the power of positive thinking, but I do think I noticed that I was activating my pelvic stabilizers better just because they were sore so I was noticing them when they were being stretched or worked. Shrug. Whatever works, right?? Today is arms day.. Hence I got sidetracked on my blog. hahah

As for other aspects of the farm, I'm getting better and utilizing rabbit meat- I found a new way to harvest and it works better for me. Like.. it makes logical sense, so I can get through it much faster, and the meat is more usable after because she explained how to package it in more usable quantities. Score! 

We went through a period of rats- RATS!!!- in the house walls. And I lost my shit, called Terminix, and started killing rats left and right. We no longer have little scurrying feet everywhere, so something worked. I need to work on some other things around here to increase the odds of that continuing, but.. I'm hopeful we nipped that problem mostly in the bud. Although I did have a dream last night that they ate through the wires in my kitchen, so clearly I'm still bothered by their presence. Mrr. 

The garden is being planned currently- I'm putting in raised beds this year because I just have better luck with them. The sawmill that came through and took care of all the giant logs laying around got us 6000 board feet of lumber for the barn(YAY!!!), and.. we have Claire's dually truck sitting proudly in our driveway (don't ask me how I'm paying for it.. I feel like I should have a kid so the bank can just take it- I mean.. a blond/blue, smart, athletic, good looking baby's gotta be worth something, right?? And.. I'm being presumptuous, but coming from Logan and me, that kid stands a good chance of being an Aryan wet dream. bahah). Hmm.. Maybe I'm onto something... ;)

Grief.

 Grief is such a funny thing in the least ha-ha kind of way. We put Ruff down 10/24, which is exactly 4 weeks ago, and I still find myself crying on an almost daily basis. Today, I cried twice- once in the morning for who only knows what, and then again this afternoon in the car when I took a picture of Tater and Loki snuggled up in the backseat. I remarked on how cute they were and remembered my pictures of the two black dogs never came out so cute because you could never see which one was which. That's all it took. I sat there with eyes leaking the rest of the way home. 

I remember this from when my Dad died. The acute phase is terrible, but the insidious, ongoing, creeps-up-on-you-and-you-never-see-it-coming phase is worse. I remember the day I actually took out my phone and dialed his number to ask him a question months after he died. It was just so natural.. My boss found me running out of the locker room bawling.

I don't ride, I don't even watch horse videos anymore. I'm shipping Folly up to Maine because primarily I don't have a stall for her, but also because... I just don't want to deal with them. Poor Vera is stuck with me all winter, and I keep saying I'm going to get my shit together, but every day, I find something else to do. I don't know why, but Vera's had about 6-8 weeks off- which coincides with about when Rufus started nose-diving. I have delved into woodworking with a vengeance, canning all the fucking food, but have completely lost interest in my horses. 

I'm fine, most of the time. I think I'm escaping into busyness and reading, because I can't just be a nutjob. I have a job, I have a husband, I have a house and horses and a PUPPY. So, I just find myself leaking sometimes. That's not so bad, right?